...She doesn't want to interrupt.  And she has...  Time enough, for this.

...But - oh of course --!

If she does but this --

If she refracts Light, through meaning - through a place for everything and everything in its place --

Perhaps.

Perhaps there will be something more like the Tree-Light!  So damned simple!  It's already part of her interaction diagrams!  If you squint!

It might just be a budget Silmaril, or, you know, nothing, but she's pretty sure there is something to this idea.

The light shines and glistens, and Lindir stares with a smile on his face.

"Why, that is as good an image as when Celebrimbor or Galadriel would sing of the Trees!  Better than anyone since Curufin has forged in fixed form.  If you would get a better picture, I would look up this evening at the Star of Earendil and listen to more songs of Valinor."

Another Elf knocks on the door; Lindir steps over to open it.

"Excuse the interruption, but Master Elrond asks for both of your presence on the Harlindon Porch."

"...Oh, goodness."  She sounds a bit faint.  "Well, I shall, finding myself in such esteemed company, be sure to make the time."

And then, she seizes upon the distraction from oh no that might be working I wasn't expecting it to work quite that well quite this fast!, in the form of oh, it's time for the Council of Elrond.  Well maybe not the Council Council, yet, but still...  Elrond.  Council-shaped.  You know the drill.

To the messenger she says, "Of course," and looks to Lindir with implicit question - 'I hope you know where that is, because I certainly don't'.

"Of course --"

Lindir quickly banks the fire in the forge again (with a few well-practiced motions) and sweeps the leftover silver back into the bag.  He leaves everything out on the tables, though - it's not like there're any children in Imladris these days to take it.

He offers a hand to Alicia if she wants any help carrying anything, and regardless, leads the way over toward the porch.

They go through the same cave-like halls Alicia went through with Gandalf earlier, but then down a turn to more light- and airy-looking places, and then out onto a tile-covered porch that looks out onto a beautiful view of the mountains.  Several benches are drawn up in a rough circle around three small braziers.

Gandalf smiles at Alicia, and gestures to a free space on the bench next to him, or another free place on another bench next to...

... a man who looks very much like Halbarad, but dressed more like an Elf than like the Rangers whom Alicia saw earlier.

Also present are Elrond, Erestor, Gloin and Gimli the Dwarves, and a few other Elves whom Alicia hasn't met yet.

(No, she doesn't need help carrying anything, but the thought is appreciated nonetheless.)

She nods to Gandalf, and - hm.

Where should she be sitting?  She's not, rightly, sure of that.

...Frodo's not here, which means the One Ring probably isn't, but she's just going to look for its - unique - signature to be sure of that -

Lindir slides onto free space on the edge of a bench next to where Alicia's standing.

Elrond nods at Alicia and Lindir.  If Alicia doesn't want to sit for some reason, he doesn't mind.

"Friends," he opens in Westron.  "We welcome today Gloin from the Lonely Mountain, and his son Gimli, come here bringing a warning and seeking for counsel; and also Alicia, who has come unwittingly from outside Arda and wishes to help with our dark days."

He pauses briefly and osanwe's Alicia, <I introduced you and Gloin.  If you wish to bow or curtsy in greeting, or something similar, it would be appropriate.  Is Lindir translating for you, or should someone else?>

<I have made a translator of sorts, which will, hopefully, be fit for this use.  I understood you, at least.>

And she did not miss her cue!  ...She waves.

"...A brief note, on that matter - I have, with some skill, and likely much more luck, furnished myself with a translation effect, being as I speak no tongue of Arda with any fluency - and with matters as they are will certainly not have time to learn - but, as I was already improvising quite severely, it is most likely going to translate everything it picks up, indiscriminately, so long as it is spoken.  My apologies for any inadvertent - doubling, I suppose."

Lindir sitting down actually gave her enough cue to sit down next to him - well, sort of, because, well, there's only so much bench.  She's ended up next to the...  Vaguely familiar-seeming, important Man.

Half of the Elves look dubious, and the other half fascinated.

Erestor, one of the "fascinated" group, echoes "From outside Arda?" marveling.

"What are you, then?  A Maia who took on a body?"

"...Goodness, no, I could hardly call myself a Maia."  That's Gandalf you should be looking at, not her.  "Amongst other things I am hardly so capable of Singing."

"Certainly not," Gandalf says with a slight smile. "She calls herself a human, a Man*, and I agree.  Though of course she has a more unusual history than most - and more unusual talents, as we have already seen."

* Like in English, the normal Westron word for "Man" can be used for either "human" and "male."  Gandalf here uses a Sindarin loan-word which is more precise, and then follows with the more normal word.

Erestor looks even more surprised - there are humans outside Arda? - but doesn't immediately interrupt.

"Yes, which brings me to my third point:  We will soon have another visitor up and around Imladris.  Frodo is now on the mend.  A splinter of the Morgul-knife was buried in his wound, which haply Alicia was able to find and retrieve.

"While our main plans for the future should probably await his recovery to join us, there are still many things to discuss today."

Alicia looks towards the dwarves, at that line - and then she remembers what they're there for.

This draws a subtle wince, because - even were she drawing most directly upon courtly manners, rather than her Earthling sensibilities (as part of enhancing her recall) - she does not have a perfect mask.

(...Anti-balrog weaponry can surely wait a bit until you're not in a meeting, Alicia, and you need to confirm your intel anyway - just because you're pretty sure doesn't mean you're right, you just remembered Shelob exists -)

...This is not, however, stopping her from drafting an enchantment or three from the genre of 'CC effects' in the form of a spear/staff.  For the leverage.  ...But then, maybe a wand would be better - but then there's a certain amount of power that's required to establish effective bindings anyway no matter how effective the energy recapture might be -

(...Well, this expression is at least hopefully not one that looks like it might be anti-dwarf racism.  She's not sure the wince wouldn't land badly, no matter the actual reason...)

...She might have to tell them.  She might owe it to them, to tell them.

Alright.  Head in the game, Alicia.

"Well done!" Gloin exclaims, nodding to Alicia.  "Bilbo has nothing but good things to say about his nephew; it will be good to meet him in person too.  And more Hobbits here too, I hear."

After a moment, he slightly frowns in thought.

"It was the least I could do, given the circumstances," slips out almost entirely on autopilot.

"Few would have been able to do what you did, and few would have been so ready and eager," Elrond answers with a smile.

Without waiting for an answer, he turns to address the whole group.  "Of Morgul-knives, we are aware.  The Nine Riders are abroad, or were but recently - but we had already heard that.  Of Frodo himself and his journey here, I would prefer to speak when he is awake and ready to tell us himself - it will not be long now.

"Gloin, let us speak rather of your journey.  What met you on the road, if there is aught to tell?  Or, what brought you here from the Lonely Mountain?"

Gloin shrugs.  "Our journey is a short story, unless you care about the details of the roads and trees in Wilderland, or of the tolls the Beornings charge on the High Pass.  Thranduil still reigns in Mirkwood, and the Pass is still clear of Orcs, but I am sure you know that.

"The reason for our journey, though, is a longer tale.  In brief, the times have been good for us in the Lonely Mountain since the Dragon was slain and Dain crowned - but still, many years ago, it was whispered among some that still greater wealth and splendor would be found in another wider place..."

And so, Gloin continues, Balin - and many Dwarves with him - left for Moria, where none save Thror only had dared to pass the doors for many lives of kings for fear of an unknown danger.

The reports were good at the start, but then came silence.

And then came a rider in the night to the Lonely Mountain:  an ambassador, he said, from Sauron the Great, who wished for their friendship.  Rings he would give - for news of hobbits.

"At this we were troubled, and gave no answer.  And then he would have sweetened his voice if he could have, saying 'As a small token only of your friendship Sauron asks this:  that you should find this thief and get from him, willing or no, a little ring, the least of rings, that he once stole.  It is but a trifle Sauron fancies, and an earnest of your good will.  Find it, and three rings that the Dwarf-sires possessed of old shall be returned to you, and the realm of Moria shall be yours for ever.  Find only news of the thief, whether he still lives and where, and you shall have great reward and lasting friendship from the Lord.  Refuse, and things will not seem so well.'

"Dain our king would not answer, but said he must consider the message.  Heavy have our hearts been since that night; we knew already that the power of Sauron has ever betrayed us of old.  Not all think him able to keep his promise, even should we betray our friend Bilbo to him; none think him willing.  Twice his ambassador has returned and gone unanswered; the third and last time, he says, is soon to come.

"And so I have been sent at last to warn Bilbo that he is sought by the Enemy; and to crave the advice of Elrond.  For the Enemy is already gathering war on our eastern borders."

"...Stingy bastard," and oh shit she should probably say something actually contributory - "though I don't suppose you would have believed him more if he promised all seven.  But that Ring that Sauron desires so desperately...

"It is a piece of him, and tied intimately to his ways of turning other Rings in their wielders' hands.  ...That Bilbo survived using it, relatively unscathed, is all but miraculous, even with such little tricks as fading into shadows.  Certainly Sauron must not have it now, when it is indubitably awake and its malevolence in full flower.  Certainly there is not a one of us it could not warp to Sauron's ends, given sufficient exposure."

Elrond nods deeply.  "It is good that you did not tell Sauron anything about Bilbo.  Had he known about the Shire earlier than he did, no doubt he would have done much ill - and perhaps found the Ring before Frodo could come here."